{Sorry for the wait on this one, I wasn't sure where it was going, honestly. But now I've got it. There will be a part three, possibly a part four, depending on how much I write..}

Oh my god. Dipper stopped thinking about the timer until that moment, when he remembered he wasn't supposed to be alone. His heart skipped too many beats to be healthy, but the gun pressed against his head gave him the right.

"I said give me the money." The man behind him hissed.

"I can't really do that if you're holding me back with your arm." Dipper bit his tongue, his smart mouth getting the best of him. Well, looks like I'm getting shot right now.

But he didn't. The trigger stayed stiff but the arm hesitated. It released, and quickly, a hand shoved Dipper forward, and the gun moved to the back of the brunette's head. "Try anything funny and you're done, kid." Dipper just nodded as the rough, but somehow anxious voice behind him hissed. He placed his fingers on the register, clicking down the buttons to open it. The sounds of the clicking seemed eternal and booming, loud against the now shattering silence. Well.. It seemed loud, until, slam.

Dipper turned around quickly, only to find the culprit on the floor, unconscious. His eyes trailed to the wound on the man's head, and it took him a moment to realize that there were now three people there.

"Are you okay?" A girl's voice jolted worriedly. Dipper's eyes snapped up to her's, a blonde girl with the stunning charm of a diamond, and the sharp integrity of one too. In her hand was a small pan, with price tags and stickers still adorning it. He made the connection that she had just found it on the other register stall and used it to ram the poor - no, deadly - man to the ground. Her hands were busy climbing into her purse as she questioned.

"Uh.. Y-Yeah." He stammered. His eyes flashed between the man on the floor and the women in front of him. The man was blond, young, and all around charming? His eyes seemed riddled with the same dark bags of exhaustion as Dipper, and his entire body seemed too large, too complex to be real. She finally retreated from her purple bag, a phone clamped in her hands. She dialed three numbers than pressed the device near her ear. There was silence for a moment, save for the buzzing of a call trying to be answered.

"Hello, yes, 9-1-1? There's been an attempted armed robbery at the supermarket.." She explained. "No, nobody was killed." She paused, Dipper could hear the mumbling on of someone from the other line.

"He didn't hurt you did he?" She placed the pan down back on the check-out belt and looked down at the criminal. Dipper didn't answer. He felt somehow more scared in the presence of the girl. Dipper shook his head no. "No, nobody as hurt, expect the perpetrator. - I hit him with a frying pan... He was holding a gun to a cashier's head, what else was I supposed to do?!" She became increasingly impatient. Dipper was still fixated on the collapsed criminal, his mind racing, not even realizing that was a near-death experience yet. "Yeah, whatever, I just need the police. Uh-huh. Okay, goodbye." She hung up and sighed.

"I'm sorry.. I needed to call 9-1-1." She began, her fingertips pressing her temples carefully.

"N-No. No, it's fine. Don't apologize." He kept looking at him, for god knows why. Curiosity? Fear? Intrigue? God knows.

"I'm Pacifica Northwest." She smiled, looking back up at Dipper and holding her hand out in anticipation.

That was the moment, though, that he truly remembered. He saw her wrist, her clock, and he remembered. He muttered fears under his agitated breath and grabbed hold of the girl's fragile pale wrist. He looked down at her clock, praying for zeros. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to be soulmates with the girl, but he wanted anything but to be soulmates with the robber on the floor. His heart climbed to his throat.

00:00:00

He was relieved, ecstatic, anything but what he was feeling a few minutes prior. He took her hand and shook it, a dumb smile forcing it's way to his lips. "I'm Dipper.. Dipper Pines."

"Dipper Pines..?! Do you have a twin sister, by any chance..?"

"Yeah! Yeah.." He toned down. He needed to remind himself to relax, his heart pounding endlessly in his chest as he tried to lower his insanely anxious reaction to the girl's presence. She eyed over his timer, but didn't say anything. He tried to compose himself before finishing. "Her name is Mabel Pines."

A smile came to her lips, and her blue eyes moved up to his. "She talks about you a lot, you know?" Those words that connected his sister to her seemed to make everything three times better somehow. "Going on about how you're a big nerd."

That wasn't as good. He brushed it off though. "She says things like that a lot but.. You know her?" She pursed her lips and seemed to hold back a chuckled as her eyes glanced away.

"You could say we're close.."

Dipper didn't realize until now that he never released her hand from his, and she was just awkwardly dangling along with his arm. He let go and awkwardly stood there for a moment. His eyes continued to glance at the man on the floor beside them, and to the pan on the conveyor belt.

"What were you even doing here..?"

"I was here to get some-" she was cut off by the sirens of the police cars that drove down the street and into the parking lot.

"I'll tell you later.." She smiled and headed towards the automatic doors. He watched her speak to the officers with a dignified sort of pride that was nothing but beautiful to anyone who saw her. The man on the floor groaned and pushed up off the ground, Dipper turned towards him. The officers rushed for him and handcuffed him, lifting him from the ground. That was the first time that Dipper caught sight of his face, which was drenched in regret and disappointment. He was rather attractive really.. But thinking through all this, Dipper realized that nearly everybody his age seemed attractive to him.. His blond hair seemed to glow even in the barely lit building. The last officer stood around and asked Dipper some questions concerning the incident. The boss of the store arrived as well to make sure as little damage as possible was done to the store. It took around forty five for everyone to leave, and for Dipper to be permitted to go home by his boss.

"Here's my number. We should hang out sometime." She handed him a small piece of paper, looking elsewhere. The fact that neither of them brought up the timers seemed slightly strange to Dipper, but he was far too socially inept to try to start the conversation. Though there was always some sort of known fact that the timers don't mess up, he had a nagging voice of "what if it's wrong?"

He didn't bother asking. He just went home, still terrified of the entire event of the night itself. It didn't help his paranoia that he was just held at gunpoint.. But that wasn't on his mind. What was on his mind, were the six digits he never thought he'd see.

00:00:00

[I swear this is still BillDip. Or it will be.. Oh just let it happen.]